


The Jerk Next Door: A Teenage Cliché

by ZombieliciousXIII



Series: Tumblr Requests! [66]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, Jerk!Frank, M/M, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV reader, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 18:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8220121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieliciousXIII/pseuds/ZombieliciousXIII
Summary: Tumblr request: “mysweetbloodyrevenge: Can you do Frank smut where he’s Y/N’s new neighbour and she finds him really attractive, but he’s like really confident and stuff and she’s shy and later on he kinda bullies her at school and makes her angry to get her attention?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I got this request and was pretty excited to do this and honestly loved the turn out (and there for it ended up longer than I thought it would be (a little over 6,000 words, DAYUM!), but I hope that’s a good thing for you guys! Hahaha) so I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> P.S. Please, for future reference send in your requests on my ask (dealing with it through Submissions is hard) but that aside, onto the story!
> 
> P.P.S. I’m SO sorry I meant to get this posted yesterday but ended up falling asleep while writing (that made for some strange things to wake up to)…sorry again!
> 
> NOTE: (Y/CE) = Your Color Eyes

The first time you saw Frank was roughly three months ago, okay, no that was a damn lie. You remember the exact date you first saw that annoying teenager and it was the July 5th, and the reason you remember was because when you’d seen the new neighbors moving in next door to you and thought _well happy belated fourth of July_ \- or at least that’s what you told yourself. Your mother had made you go greet the new neighbors the very next day, with her signature fruit salad chilling your palms, and the fact your heart went into double time upon seeing Frank for the first time had nothing to do with it - or so you, again, told yourself.

But that hardly mattered, you didn’t have time for boys - no matter how punk-looking and attractive - and simply wanted to focus on more important things like your studies, because falling for your neighbor would make you the cliché girl-next-door and you’d be damned to fall into that. Besides, your senior year had started up again, you were all well into a month into your school work, and icing on the cake was that you and Frank ran around with different groups - a part of you was actually surprised by how quickly he made friends. Then again, it didn’t matter what Frank did, you were apart of the theater nerds and he ran with the rebels, and you definitely didn’t stare at him in the hallways - because that would just be another damn movie cliché, the girl falling for the rebel and you were not a cliché.

Thus you dispelled Frank Anthony Iero Jr. from your mind, removing revery trace of his pierced face and sleep-mussed hair, erased the smirk his soft-looking lips curled into upon seeing you standing before him and the way his eyes freely roamed over your stock-still form. Nope. None of that mattered. He was irrelevant. That is, until he wasn’t.

“Frank stop that!” You huff, snatching the paint brush away from him only to have splatters of red on your shirt - thankfully this was the shirt you used solely for painting.

Drama Club had been an after school activity you’ve been apart of since entering high school, your love for the theater in ever aspect - mainly acting - drove you to be apart of it, and most of all spear-headed you to do the best you could in every task assigned to you. It was back in the ninth grade that you’d only worked back-stage, your drama teacher - Ms. Lee - had thought you too young an inexperienced to do anything more, but you proved Amy wrong the following year. This year was no different, scratch that, it actually _was_ different because this year you’d been cast as the lead role in the first play of the school year, and that meant many things, namely; being at the top of your game. And you were, until you found out Frank Iero decided to join the Drama Club too. You honestly had no idea what drove him to it, Frank was a music nerd and rebel, but there he was every day - he never skipped, surprisingly - in the school’s auditorium to help create the stage. However, that didn’t come with it’s downsides, such as him constantly pestering you, meandering about, and distracting everyone else from their tasks with his charisma and charm - hell, you sometimes fell victim to his ways.

Least to say; Frank Iero was an annoyingly charming fly you just could _not_ seem to swat away.

“What? I wasn’t doin’ nothin’,” the brunet defends, staring down at you from the stepladder with large - undoubtedly fake - innocent hazel-eyes.

Your (Y/CE) harden into an accusing glare, then dart to the bright red painted dick on the backboard, and finally back to Frank who - annoyingly - burst out into giggles. And yes, you may have thought his giggle were cute, but that wasn’t information you’d ever confess to even under the threat of death. It’s been nearly a whole month of this and it needed to stop, if not for your own sanity, then for the sake of the play.

“Where’s your sense of fun, (Y/N)?” Frank questions, folding his arms across his chest as he watches you - almost as though _you_ were the one making a fool of yourself.

“Frank, why did you even _join_ Drama Club if you’re just gonna be a dick about it?!” You bellow, glaring at the teenager before shoving him off the stepladder and taking his place.

Despite your back to him as you hurriedly paint over the dick, you can hear the amusement in Frank’s voice when he says, “because I knew annoying you would be fun.”

“Of course that would be your damn- wait, what?”

Whipping around you stare down at Frank, wide-eyed and obviously shocked - even as an actress-in-training you couldn't mask your surprise at his admission. He was here…because of _you?_

“You heard me.”

You open your mouth only to close it a second later, this made no sense, Frank never even _talked_ to you after the first time you’d officially seen him and-

“God your face!” The brunet suddenly belts through laughter, doubling over as he grabs his side. “You okay there Nemo? Need water?”

Your face screws up you huff, you should have known better; he was just messing with you. Snapping forward you finish painting over while Frank laughs at your expense, and with a final flick of your wrist you fully cover his grotesque work and hop off the stepladder ignoring the asshole punk completely as you walk away.

“Aw don’t be so sad, (Y/N), just because you’ve never seen a dick doesn’t mean-”

“Fuck you, I’ve seen bigger dicks than your could ever _wish_ to have!” You bellow, honestly about to just hit him over the head with the paint can - then again, getting charged with manslaughter before graduating high school would put a damper in your future plans.

With that you stomp away with only one thought in mind; _I need a fucking drink._

Thank God for Fridays.

* * *

 

 

“He’s an ass, Ryan, there’s no way around it,” you huff, for what must have been the hundredth time.

Opening your eyes you see Ryan - albeit upside down - from your position on his bed, head hanging off the edge, and if the room’s spinning a little well, then it just means the vodka’s working. Ryan Ross has been your best friend for a little over five years now, having met in the eighth grade over both your love for the theater, and while you were hoping to one day act on the silver-screen your best friend was gunning for Broadway - and you undoubtedly knew he had a chance.

“You’ve said that already, (Y/N),” the brunet chuckles, shaking his head before taking another sip of his vodka and coke - hey, when you were teenagers you took would you could, and vodka was always the cheapest thing to buy.

“But I mean, like, _seriously!_ This guy is just…just-”

“An ass?” Ryan offers, grinning at you from behind his cup.

“YES!”

“Then why are you still talking about him?”

“I don’t know…but, like, really Ryan, he said he joined Drama Club _just_ to bother me? How stupid is that?”

“Seems like he has a crush on you,” you ungracefully snort at the claim.

“Oh please, the jerk-next-door having a crush on me? Can you _say_ cliché?”

Ryan chuckles, downing the rest of his drink with a grimace, “well, just because it’s a cliché doesn’t mean it doesn’t actually _happen.”_

You pause…he did have a point.

“But that’s not the point, he’s-”

“An ass, so you’ve said, like, for the _billionth_ time,” Ryan huffs, now rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” giving up you pick up your cup from the floor and take a drink, a thought coming to mind. “Wait, where are you parents?”

“They’re gone for the weekend, something about visiting family, but either way they won’t be back until Monday night.”

“Awesome! That mean we have the house to ourselves?”

“Yes, but ‘ _ourselves’?_ Who says your _staying?”_

“Oh c’mon Ryan, you love me too much to kick me out.”

The brunet promptly ignores your statement, instead choosing to ask, “what about your mom?”

“She won’t care, she’s to wrapped up with her new boyfriend to even notice I’m gone,” you shrug, rolling your eyes before gulping down the rest of your own drink.

It was true, since your mother met her new boy-toy she’s hardly been a parent at all, and while you missed your time with her, you were happy for her - plus it came with the perk of being able to sneak out or stay out late without reprimand.

“Fair enough,” Ryan nods, pausing to think before suggesting a new game plan. “Wanna head to the store, buy snacks, and have a _Scream_ marathon?”

“TV show or movies?”

“Movies, hence, _movie_ marathon,” Ryan replies, shaking his head with a muttered _dumbass._

“Fuck you,” you playfully rebuttal, raising a brow at your friend. “Are you inviting Brendon?”

In lieu of replying Ryan shrugs and pours himself another drink, but from the crimson dusting his cheeks you knew the answer already.

“If you’re inviting Brendon to suck-face, I get to invite Gerard,” you negotiate, smirking at your best friend.

“Oh c’mon, seriously? You guys are still at it?”

“So what if we are, neither of us are _looking_ for anything, and besides…he’s a damn good kisser.”

“But I thought he got back together with Lindsey?”

“Yeah, until they broke up for another petty reason, and it’s only a matter of time before that changes so I gotta take advantage of the ‘break up’,” you chuckle, holding out your cup for more vodka and coke - Ryan wordlessly fills you up.

It was true, Lindsey Ballato and Gerard Way were notorious for having an on-again-off-again relationship, but that just meant you got to be one of the school’s hottest guy’s make-out buddy. However, the two of you were friends outside of that, but good sex and awesome tonsil-tennis - as your friend, Dallon, eloquently puts it - was a perk, hey, just because you were single didn’t mean you still weren’t a horny teen.

“Fine, but if Gerard’s coming he’d better bring more liquor, that guy drinks like a damn camel.”

You bark a laugh, “fair enough, I’ll text him now.”

Rolling off the side of the bed - mindful of not spilling your drink - you sift through your backpack and pull out you iPhone, making quick work of scrolling through your contacts and selecting Gerard’s number.

**Today**

**_You - 4:56pm:_ ** _hey g_

You switch from texting app to _Facebook_ and crack a smile, looking over at Ryan.

“Dude, did you see RDJ’s latest _Facebook_ post?” You ask, giggling at your screen.

“No? What’d he post this time?” Ryan asks, but is already opening up the app on his phone. “Oh God, this is why I will forever love Robert Downey Jr.”

“Did you know apparently some of his friends call him _Bob?”_

“Dude, no, it’s RDJ, Tony Stark, or Robert Downey Jr. there is nothing in between!” Ryan exclaims as if offended by the very prospect, or is possibly already bordering on drunk - probably both.

Just as you open you mouth to respond, your phone buzzes, and almost slips out of your hand to ninja you in the face - but thankfully you catch it in time.

**_Gerard - 5:01pm:_ ** _wht’s up bbe?_

**_You - 5:01pm:_ ** _ryan’s parent’s r gone wanna come over?_

**_Gerard - 5:01pm:_ ** _o ya? wat u got planned? ;)_

**_You - 5:02pm:_ ** _hahaha drinks & a scream marathon, u in? ;D_

You stare at the screen for a few moments, hoping Gerard will say yes, because honestly being third-wheel to any make-out session is undeniably depressing - especially when you end up resorting to painting your toenails as a result, which you have done. Many times.

**_Gerard - 5:05pm:_ ** _i’ll b there @ 8 w drinks and snacks :P_

**_You - 5:05pm:_ ** _yas! c u then dork ;P_

**_Gerard - 5:06pm:_ ** _shhhhh u luv me ;p_

You turn to look at Ryan with a blatant grin and the teenager chuckles, “I’m assuming Gee said yes?”

“Yup, he’ll be here at eight with drinks and snacks,” you preen, taking a drink from your vodka and coke. “What about Brendon?”

“He’s a go too,” Ryan smiles likes a dope, sipping at his drink. “Said he’ll bring a bottle too.”

“Why don’t you two just date already?” You blurt, grinning at your friend. “Seriously, the two of you would be perfect for each other.”

“(Y/N), how about you just fuck off?” The brunet counters, face crimson as he tries to act nonchalant.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Tomato.”

“Fuck off!” Ryan laughs, flicking you off.

“Oh please, you know I’m right.”

Pillow to the face, yup, that seems about right.

* * *

 

 

The movie was ready to go, you had a nice buzz going on and Brendon was in the kitchen with Ryan getting the chips bowl ready, you were about to make yourself a drink when the doorbell rang. Standing you head over to the front door, opening it and smile, mumbling a greeting as Gerard hugs you.

“Hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend along,” the red-head says, pulling away.

“Nah it’s cool-” you stop, seeing Frank standing behind Gerard with a case of beer.

‘ _Wonderful,’_ you internally huff, stepping aside for the teens to come inside.

“The movie’s good to go, so just make yourselves at home,” you say, closing the door and trailing behind them to the living room.

Why did Gerard bring Frank? Sure, they ran around with the same group, but still…you would have preferred the ever manic Pete Wentz over Frank the Jerk - yes, he now has a damn title. Deciding to ignore the brunet you flop down onto the couch beside Gerard, hollering out to Ryan and Brendon that you’re about to start up the movie, and moments later you see the two moronic lovebirds make their way into the living room to join the three of you. Lights dimmed, horror movie playing, and drinks to spare, you’d think it’d be the idle situation for teenagers to make-out. However, all you could think was _why is Frank, of all people, here?_ The thought lingered in your mind, but the brunet seemed oblivious to your glare as he sipped on his beer and watched the slasher flick. The night dragged on, and you’d honestly not noticed Gerard wrap his arm around you - practically glued to your side - until he’d gently gripped your chin and tilted your head to meet his lips, and it was only then you actually relaxed. Kissing Gerard was always nice, there was no real feelings behind the actions other than lust, and you were both happy with that.

If you’d had your eyes open, you would have noticed Frank do a double take. If you hadn’t been shifting to lean against the arm rest, you would have seen Frank’s gaze linger on you. If only you hadn’t been kissing Gerard back with such fervor, you would have seen the jealousy class across the brunet’s hazel-eyes before he got up and left the room. However, you saw none of that, only opening your eyes when Gerard pulls away to look down at his ringing phone.

“Shit, it’s Lindsey,” he whispers, eyes flicking from you to the device - you could see him torn between answering the phone and not wanting to upset you.

Gerard was a nice guy, casual with his sexuality, but you knew where his heart really stood.

“Answer it, you mook,” you chuckle, slightly breathless.

“You’re the best, (Y/N),” Gerard preens, kissing your forehead and was up like a shot to leave the room and answer the call.

You sat alone on the couch, Ryan and Brendon kissing - well, more like they were trying to climb into one another via their mouths - on the Lazy Boy by the table, and you smiled.

‘ _I really hope those two morons figure out their shit before graduation,’_ you think, mentally calculating how long their ‘friends with benefits’ affair had been going on and- ‘ _Shit, they’ve been at this for almost three years, make it official already!’_

“Hey babe,” you hear a voice whisper from behind you, craning your neck over your shoulder you look up at Gerard.

“Yeah?”

“Lindsey wants me to go to hers, do you mind?”

You chuckle, flicking the teenager’s nose and stage-whisper, “of course not, go get her, Tiger!”

Gerard giggles before leaning down to kiss your temple, with a hushed thanks and a loud goodbye, the red-head jets out of the house leaving you alone with Ryan and Brendon in the living room, but it’s only then you note Frank’s absence.

“Guys, where’s Frank?” You ask to no one in particular, and when you don’t get an answer you just roll your eyes and stand deciding to have a cigarette to pass the time.

Waking through the kitchen to the patio, you dig through your pockets but only then remember; you hadn’t bought any cigar-

“Cigarette?” A voice to your left offers, looking over you pause for a moment but shrug.

“Sure,” with that reply you take the offered tobacco stick and lighter before sitting on the swinging chair with Frank.

“Where’s Gerard?” Frank asks through a smog of smoke.

“Probably had way to Lindsey’s by now,” you chuckle, lighting up the cigarette.

“Man, how many times has she broken up with him?” Chuckles the brunet, taking another drag but his eyes still remain forward.

“This month?” You question, pausing to inhale. “Probably the fifth time.”

“Damn…” Frank comments, finally looking over to you as he asks. “So you and Gerard?”

His question lingers in the open night air, Frank hasn't been around long and this was the first time the two of you had actually hung out outside of a school setting, so it only made sense he wouldn’t know of you and Gerard’s strange friends-with-benefits-that-only-do-shit-when-one-friend-is-off-again-with-his-girlfriend arrangement.

“We’re just friends, who make out and fool around sometimes when he’s single,” you answer, glancing at the brunet. “Lindsey knows about it, hell, she even messes around when they aren’t dating.”

Frank nods, a single _ah_ his only acknowledgment to the situation. You stare down at your cigarette, asking away the burnt edge when a thought crosses your mind, and it’s only when you hear your voice that you realize you’ve vocalized it.

“Why did you really join the Drama Club?”

Frank remains silent for a moment before sighing, “I already told you, didn’t I?”

“So you really joined just to piss me off?” You question, honestly dumbfounded - seriously, what kind of reason was that?

“Something like that,” the brunet shrugs, taking one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it away.

“Well you’re just a dick then, aren’t you?” You blurt, turning to glare at the teenager.

“I’ve been known to be called that,” he answers nonchalantly, and for some reason that just pissed you off further.

“Frank, why don’t you just fucking _grow up?”_

The brunet turns to glare at you before standing up, but you shoot up like a shot and glare at him, not standing down. Yes, he was messing with you almost daily, but the show would suffer in the long run, and as a person with such a passion for the theater you couldn’t let that stand.

“Get out of my face, (Y/N),” Frank glowers, and you stand up straighter.

“No, answer me properly first.”

“I did.”

“No, you bullshitted.”

“Fuck off, (Y/N).”

“Not until-”

“Is it so fucking hard to believe I like messing with you?”

You glare, dropping your cigarette and yell out, “ _why?!”_

“Because I-” Frank shouts but abruptly stops himself, his heaving chest pressed against yours and it’s only as the silence fills the air do you realize how closely the two of you are standing.

“Because I…” Frank tries again, voice calmer - softer - this time, but his words fail him all the same.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, the faint sounds of a September breeze brushes by, but all you see and hear is Frank and for just a second you could have _sworn_ up and fucking down that Frank was leaning _in_.

“ **(Y/N) where are you?** ” Ryan suddenly shouts from within the house, snapping both your attention’s to the patio door.

“I have to go,” mumbles the brunet before rushing past you, and you try to follow but slow to a stop when Frank all but runs out of the house.

“What was that about?” Ryan questions, looking at you with a raised brow.

“I honestly have no idea…”

 

* * *

 

It’s been nearly a month since you last hung out with Frank, and aside from his constant annoyances, the two of you bickered almost daily - now even outside of Drama Club. In a strange sort of way, despite him being a downright asshole to you about one-hundred-and-ten percent of the time, if push came to shove you’d save hime from a burning building - did that mean you considered him a friend? _Whatever, Frank’s irrelevant_ is a mantra you’ve been trying to live by, and it’s worked for you so far, at least worked in the sense of you not breaking a prop over Frank’s head every time he picks on you - key word being ‘every time’…you have done it, twice now. However, despite how much you try to dispel the raunchy teenager from your mind, you’re always brought back to the night on Ryan’s patio, always left thinking _what was he about to say?_

BARK!

‘ _That fuck?’_ You think, almost jumping out of your skin you turn to see a…dog?

You stare down at a little creature, gray, wiry, and a long red tongue lolling out the side as it watches you with large black eyes. It was defiantly a dog, but probably more of mutt than anything, but still there was something strangely endearing about the little mutt. With a smile you put your book aside and kneel down to pet it’s head, chuckling as the dog excitedly climbs up onto your lap, it’s then you notice a collar.

“Are you lost little one?” You ask, lifting up the dog’s snout and see a tag that read _Sweet Pea._ “Well hello there, Sweet Pea.”

The dog preens and barks happy at the name, it’s butt almost vibrating with how hard it’s tail shakes. You laugh, continuing to pet the mutt and turn the tag over and read _If lost, return to Frank Iero_ followed by the teenager’s number, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course this dog’s Frank’s, nothing about him was ‘normal’ so why would his dog be any different?

Picking up the excited pup you stand, “lets get you back to your dad.”

Making your way to your neighbor’s house, you ring the door bell, and wait but when you hear no one calling out the usual _coming!_ you sigh, about to turn to leave when a thought comes to mind. Turning back you try the door handle, a little surprised when you find the door open, but think _what the hell?_ and enter the home. Walking through the mudroom you head towards the living room, feeling a little embarrassed for entering a house uninvited, and it’s then you think _okay, I should probably just call-_ but stop upon hearing a voice upstairs.

“Hello?” You call out, deciding to take a chance and head up the stairway.

Finding yourself facing a hallway you walk towards the room with an open door, the closer you got to the room the clearer the voice became; it was Frank. Standing in front of the room the first thing you see is a row of guitars, from acoustic to electric, and above them are posters. Yeah, definitely Frank’s room. Stepping in you see the teenager, his back to you as he worries over the phone, hand clutching the top of his hair.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen Sweet Pea?” He asks, worry and exasperation straining his voice. “No…yeah…okay, thank you again, but just let me know if you do.”

The little pup in your arms only now makes itself known by barking, and almost instantly Frank whips around, eyes wide with shock before dropping down to the little gray mutt in your arms.

“Sweet Pea!” Frank bellows, rushing over to you and carefully takes the dog from you.

Laughing with happy relief as he kisses her and the little mutt licks his cheek, “God you found her! Thank you so much!”

Frank sets Sweet Pea down on the floor, up like a shot a second later, and the next thing you know Frank’s lips are on yours. You stand stock-still, stunned but something within you sparks, and you feel your heart skip about fifteen beats. Oh fuck….Frank pulls back, obviously surprised by his own actions, but his hands don’t move away from cupping your neck and jaw. The two of you stare at each other and…oh crap. You surge forward just as he does, thankfully Frank turns left while you go right and keep from cracking your noses together, and that’s how it begins. Frank turns you around, moving forward and knocks you down onto his bed, and right then you realize what the hell you’ve been feeling for this asshole from the moment you’ve met him. Frank seems to be on the same page, because suddenly all restraints are gone and his hands are all over you, and you happily return the favor with just as much fervor.

“Get this off!” You huff, tugging at Frank’s _Mötley Crüe_ shirt.

Moving up onto his knees - which are straddled around your hips - the teenager tugs off his shirt to reveal lean olive-skin, and you’d never admit that at the sight alone your mouth watered wanting to taste him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Frank teases, and you roll your eyes.

“For once, can you _not_ be a dick?”

“Sorry, it’s a predisposition,” the brunet teases, clearly not at all apologetic.

“Dick.”

“Bitch.”

You chuckle, and tug off your own shirt, body arching up against Frank’s as he holds himself above you with his forearms, caging you in and you’ve never been happier to be trapped. Frank ruts his hips down against yours and you meet every one of his movements, feeling his length harden against you, and you try oh so hard to bite back a moan but it escapes you nonetheless - just like you’d expected, the jerk grins against your lips. Thrusting your hips pointedly you smirk when he groans, taking the opportunity to bite at his lower lip, pulling back to see your work, but the feeling of triumph isn’t what washes over you. No, lust surges through you at the sight of Frank’s kiss-swollen lips, and the teenager’s own hazel eyes glaze over with lust as they rake down your face and chest.

“Fuck…maybe you aren’t a _total_ virgin,” Frank teases and you roll your eyes - it’s almost a tick around him at this point, but for some reason it’s never really out of annoyance.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you huff, but the brunet grins.

“I have a better idea,” he preens, shifting down and undoes your jeans.

Kissing at your stomach and hipbones, buying time until your jeans - and underwear - are slide down and off you leaving you bear - save for your bra - beneath him, and just like the damn asshole Frank is he just _goes for it._ Your thighs clamp down around the teenager’s head, your body going taut like a bowstring, and you clutch helplessly at his locks as he works his tongue over your bundle of nerves.

“S-Shit…Frank-fuck!” You moan out, your legs already trembling. “I-If you keep this up I- _shit-_ won’t l-last much longer…and I’d rather cum while you’re f-fucking me- fuck!”

Frank groans, ducking his head to lick up your lips before crawling back over you, “who knew you had such a dirty mouth?”

“Please, there’s lots you don’t know,” you jab back playfully, breathless.

“Well then…I intend to find out,” he answers, dipping down to kiss you heatedly.

Shifting off you Frank moves to stand, shucking off the remainder of his clothing as you toss away your bra, and the two of you pause for a moment to drink in the other.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes out, just as you blurt.

“Are you shitting me?”

“Why are clothes a thing again?” Frank questions, crawling back onto the bed, cock bouncing unashamedly between his legs.

“Something about a burning bush,” you answer flippantly, wrapping your arms around his shoulder to pull him in for another kiss as he chuckles at your answer.

Frank ruts his bear erection against your hip and just then you speak, “hey, I may wanna be on TV but that does _not_ include _Sixteen and Pregnant.”_

Frank chuckles, breathing out a curse and an apology before rolling off you to retrieve his wallet off the bedside table, and pulls out a condom.

“Wow, you guys really carry condoms around in your wallets?” You ask, not actually caring as you watch him roll the latex over his impressive length.

“Yeah, where else are we supposed to keep it?”

“Good point,” you reply, moving higher up onto the bed and curl a finger at the brunet. “Now c’mere.”

“Yes ma’am,” Frank grins, all but jumping back onto the bed to join you. “Any preferences?”

You pause, honestly not having been asked how you like to be fucked most guys  - okay, not _Gerard -_ okay ever really fucked you missionary style, but that didn’t mean you two didn’t switch it up every now and then.

“I like being fucked on my front,” you answer, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

“I like a girl that knows what she wants,” Frank quickly adds, grinning at you and puts your nerves to rest.

You roll over, lifting your ass a little and Frank moves in between your legs, you feel the blunt tip of his cock press against your opening and moan when he slips in with one hard thrust.

“F-Fuck…” you moan, your head pressing against the duvet as you clutch the sheets, your insides accommodating his size.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good (Y/N)…” Fran moans out, one hand gripping your hips as he begins to thrust, the other moving up the bed and takes one of your hands in his.

Suddenly, everything felt a lot more intimate, and Frank must have felt it too because his movements shift into slower and longer thrusts. You’d think someone like Frank wouldn’t want sex to be intimate, be the moment you feel his press kisses along your shoulder blades and neck, you knew you were proven wrong. You could feel every movement, every twitch of his cock and trembled at the feeling of his chest against your back, and you were left writhing beneath him.

“Christ you s-sound so fuckin’ sexy, (Y/N)…” Frank breathes against the crook of your neck, gently biting down and sucking on the skin their - claiming you as his.

“F-Frank I’m close…” you moan, tilting your head to give his mouth better access.

“Me too,” you groans, gripping your hips a little tighter - almost bracingly so. “Wanna go harder?”

You hum as way of answering, and add, “f-faster too…”

Frank makes a noise, something in the back of his throat at your words and it makes you shiver. Suddenly, the teen is driving into you without restraint, skin on skin mixing in with the sounds of lust you both create, it feels almost stifling in his small room but it only spurs you to finish faster. Frank shifts a little, not stopping with his brutal thrusts, and you almost scream feeling as though you were punched right off the edge into ecstasy. Your body trembles as you cum, tightening around the teenager who lets out a gruel and animalistic growl before his hips stutter, and slows to a stop. Frank holds himself above your with a shaky arm, hips rolling lazily in you as the two of you ride out your highs before pulling out of you. Moving to sit the brunet removes and discards of the condom before heading the lavatory in his room, and you watch him go laying almost in a daze on his bed. For a split second you feel self-conscious, like he’s about to awkwardly ask you to leave once he returns, or look at you strongly for not already being up and half way through redressing, but all your worries fade away when Frank returns with a lazy smile and towel in hand.

“Fuck…can I be honest?” He begins, sitting beside you on the bed and hands you the towel to clean yourself with.

“Sure, it’s not like you haven’t already seen me naked or anything,” you tease, and he chuckles - you like the sound of it, that you’ll finally admit to yourself.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you.”

“You’ve been thinking about fucking me?” You question, suddenly a little offended.

“No!” He quickly object, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “No…it’ll sound dorky, but I meant kissing you…”

At that, your heart melts a little.

“Yeah, you’re right, you are a dork,” you joke, sitting up and toss away the towel before moving to wrap your arms around Frank’s shoulders.

The brunet twists and wraps his arms around your middle, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, nothing like he’d done before and you were pretty sure your heart was nothing more than a puddle of mush by this point.

“I know it seems ass-backwards, given what just went down but…” Frank trails, suddenly looking a little shy. “Would you be against going on a date with me?”

You smile, genuine and happily, “nah, you’re a pretty good kisser so what could go wrong?”

Frank rolls his eyes and huffs, “I’m being serious (Y/N).”

“Of course I wanna go on a date with you,” you preen, leaning in for another kiss.

“Good,” Frank chuckles softly against your lips, thumb lazily stroking your side. “Any plans for today?”

“Well, I _was_ going to ask if you had _Halo_.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” the brunet smiles, kissing you once again. “Can I marry you?”

You laugh light heartedly, but can’t fight the blush that tints your cheeks, “how about we just start with a date?”

“Fine,” Frank drags out the single syllable, making you giggle and just want to kiss him all over again - and you do.

You knew falling for the jerk next door was a dead horse of a teenage cliché, but this was one cliché you’d happily play into.


End file.
